'It's not complete. If it was complete, I would give you fifty quid for it. But it's not complete.'
These words were uttered by a skinny Scottish skate whose teeth had not been cleaned in thirty years. He needed a bath like I needed the sale but if truth be told he was actually just interrupting my enjoyment of a cup of asparagus soup from Amaretto. He was fingering a Victorian silver parasol handle that I had acquired that very morning from Tall Tony. It's beautifully decorated in the Art Nouveau style and I wanted £50 for it. Although, he was correct in pointing out that there was no parasol to accompany the handle, he was incorrect in his assertion that this fact would make any difference to its value. But it was his attitude that hardened the price.
'I'll give you a tenner for it. It's not worth more than that to me' he said, before tossing it back into my display cabinet with disregard.
Back in the day there was always a 10% rule - to trade buyers at least. To Scottish tossers (of parasol handles) who expect something for nothing, the available discount is...silence.
'I said I'll give you a tenner for it.'
Silence.
'What is your best price then?'
Silence.
'Mate?'
Silence.
My demeanour eventually penetrated his little bony head and he wandered off to do whatever it is that little annoying Scottish people do.
It's simple to negotiate a little bit off - just respect the person you are dealing with and be enthusiastic about what you want to buy 'I really love this beautiful parasol handle - I don't suppose there is any chance you could do it for £45?' is all he needed to say. But he didn't.
The Cloisters Fair was very busy yesterday which was to be expected as we head (rapidly it seems) toward Christmas. We had a full house too with space for dealers at a premium. With so many friends in one place it's difficult sometimes to concentrate on the job in hand (we are there to sell after all). To say we laughed throughout the day would be an understatement. We laughed until the medieval timbers laughed with us before heading back to our favourite pub, The Doghouse, at the end of trading.
Oh the tales and the stories and the events and the gossip and the life and the love and the death of it all. It's all there and I wish that I was Oscar Wilde or Shakespeare so that I could find the words to portray what it is that makes The Cloisters Fair so special. It's a hive of activity and I never tire of it. It's our front parlour. It's our Rovers Return. It's our soap opera. But of all the stories of late, one (true) story stands out.
Often the best tales are never told (many of my mine are between God and me and I'll have that conversation with Him one day no doubt) and this was very nearly another for the vault. But, with the permission of the dealer agreed, I'll open the curtain momentarily and allow you a glimpse into our secret world.
'I think it's a railway watch'
The opening lines in this particular episode were spoken by my good friend and colleague, Daniel. He was inspecting an old pocket watch that had been entered into our auction for sale.
I glanced at it and saw it for what it was - an old pocket watch with a damaged enamel dial. We see hundreds of pocket watches come through our saleroom and they are all the same - worthless. Of course, there are always exceptions - we did sell an incredible Russian silver and blue enamel pocket watch recently - but this didn't look like one. It was tired and dirty and without a hope in Hell of selling at the ambitious £40 reserve that had been placed upon it. I looked at it. Daniel looked at it. Every single dealer and collector that came to our sale looked at it. No one bought it and we offered it for sale privately at a reduced price of £25. At that price it was still, in my opinion, rich. The dealer who bought it from us, a friend of mine, went away happy nevertheless.
A few days later, he phoned me. Normally, when a dealer calls post-sale it is to negotiate a refund for some reason or other which is why we like the phrase 'sold as seen'. Not on this occasion, however.
'Just between you and me, Gary...'
The pocket watch had been sold on for £600! That may seem like a fantastic profit for the dealer, and of course it is (and he did buy me a cup of tea with some of the proceeds) but more than anything it represents a moment of ecstasy for the collector who bought it because he isn't interested in pocket watches. He is interested in memorabilia related to the Zulu War of 1879.
The pocket watch was inscribed on the back 'Presented by Col. Hutton to Private John Williams 1879'.
Private John Williams (pictured) was awarded the Victoria Cross for his part in the defence of Rorke's Drift on the 22nd/23rd January 1879. The battle was featured on screen in the film 'Zulu' starring Stanley Baker and Michael Caine and is famous as one of the greatest ever British victories against overwhelming odds. Private Williams was awarded the VC for fending off Zulu warriors attacking the hospital and engineering an escape for the injured by breaking through walls with his bayonet. He saved many lives and did so without ammunition or thought for his own safety. The pocket watch that belonged to a man like Private John Williams VC is highly desirable.
'How did we miss that one, Gary?' asked Daniel in The Doghouse last night.
'Error, Daniel'
'Error, Gary'
'Another pint, Daniel?'
Actually, the credit for this has to go to the man that took the trouble to research the inscription on the back of the watch. There is a belief amongst the public that antique dealers make money easily but that is not the case. This antique dealer was meticulous and determined in his research and earned his money thoroughly and honestly. He deserved his profit.
What gems will you be able to find in our next auction? Well, why not come along and see for yourself - our Christmas sale has been moved to Wednesday, 22nd December at 11am and will run alongside The Cloisters Fair and our Christmas party. It's going to be a great finale to our year and something that you simply cannot afford to miss!
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